Broken Time Machine

Broken Time Machine

The cabin door opens. 

I’m kneeling on the ice-metal floor. The console clock blinks 01:47. You are haloed by the stars behind you.

“Let’s dance,” you say. I take your hand, and we spin in orbit. We breathe in time. 

Dancing is never enough. You take my wrists, push me down, tear me open. Ready to ruin me. 

I never scream. I pierce your neck with my hairpin. We gush red. 

This time, I unbutton your shirt. I gnaw on your ribs. Tasting hot iron. Digesting you for only a moment. The clock blinks again. 

The cabin door opens.